Runes
by CapturetheFinnick
Summary: What would have happened if Jocelyn had never ran away from Valentine with baby Clary.
1. Prequel

_**This is a prequel to a story I intend to write based upon Cassandra Clare's series "The mortal Instruments". I do not own any characters. Please read and review thank you :)**_

* * *

_**PREQUEL**_

_The Morgenstern Mansion was immense. Situated in its own grounds, the land stretched over acres and acres. The manor stood directly in the centre of this realm, surrounded by hundreds of gardens, too many for a person to walk round in just one mere day. The land was green as far as the eye could see. However, it was not just the sheer size of the property that commanded attention. The outside was also completely black. The only thing that escaped the black was the Morgenstern family emblem that was designed in silver at the top of the house. It was a falling star, representing how the shadow hunters were originally bore from the skies. The pattern was both symbolic and pleasing to the eye. The design was intricately created, scratched into the blackness of the wall in bright silver paint. The inside of the house, of course, was not wholly black. That would have been taking the morbid theme a little too far. No, the inside was like any regular house. Except it was a home for shadow hunters._

_Inside the library there were two small children playing tag. The girl was currently the tagger, her long, fiercely red hair flowing behind her like flames in the wind as she ran. Her bright green eyes were fixated on her older brother as she leaned in trying to grasp him between her tiny fingertips, him making a swift dash at the last minute. Her brother continued to run from her, laughing with delight. He was around two years older than her, his pale blond hair shimmering in the light which was pouring through the open window. His eyes were an unusual shade of black, making him seem emotionless despite the sounds of joy that escaped his thin lips. The children couldn't have been more different if they tried. Surrounding the two young children were hundreds upon thousands of books. Each of them bound in thick leather cases, all different colours, from the deepest and darkest reds to the sort of green that one might find in a forest. The aroma coming off of the books was musky, a smell associated only with pure leather. The grand doors suddenly swung open and the two children stopped playing, standing to attention, trying to look as serious as a three-year-old and a five-year-old can. Their innocent eyes stayed rigid, set upon the unsmiling man who had just entered the library. He wore a tight black t-shirt, a thick leather jacket, leather pants and black army boots. His ashy blonde hair was tied in a plait that almost reached the small of his perfectly straight spine. A look of annoyance and slight boredom played across his severe features. If you looked closely you could see the glint of a silver, sharp knife pointing out of the man's boots. The children stood stiff, fear evident on their untarnished faces. Holding hands with the man was a boy the children had never seen before. He was the tender age of four. The way the light fell upon his golden hair made it look like the boy wore a halo. His angelic features seemed to agree. However, his tawny eyes searched the room with fear and trepidation. His knees shook. "Clarissa, Sebastian this is Jonathan. He will be staying with us from now on" The man boomed out in the direction of the children. With that said, he abruptly left, storming out of the library slamming the door behind him with a deafening bang._

_The children didn't speak. They were uncertain of what to say. But, they didn't have to make greetings. Within two minutes the smaller door at the other side of the precious library had opened up and the children's mother had walked in. Jocelyn was a spitting image of her daughter, the same fiery red hair, slight build and look of pure determination upon her face. Her emerald eyes found the golden haired boy and she began to speak. "You must be Jonathan right? I'm Jocelyn. I'm sorry I couldn't pick you up, I was otherwise engaged." She said, her eyes portraying only signs of kindness. Jonathan looked startled. "It's okay" she continued, "There's no need to be afraid, I'll be your mummy from now on". "J-J-J-Jace" the young boy stuttered. "I, I prefer Jace". Nodding, Jocelyn proceeded to introduce Jace to Clary and Seb, referring to them as his brother and sister. Jace was a little overwhelmed but on the whole he was just glad that not everyone was as hostile as the severe man who had brought him there. For the first time in a while, he appeared to have a family who genuinely cared about him and that was something he intended to keep. _


	2. Chapter 1: Training

_**Chapter One**_

_(13 years later)_

_Clary woke up with a jolt. She had overslept. Her dream was still fresh in her bewildered mind. It had depicted her and Jace, something she found herself thinking about a lot recently. She wished she had time to reflect upon the meaning of these visions, but she was already late. Clary's room was reasonably small. It contained only a bed and a wardrobe. Her father did not believe in personalisation. Her pile of weapons were sat in the corner, mirroring the sunlight pouring through the open window. She sprang from her bed; she couldn't afford to be tardy. She hastily pulled on her shadow hunter gear, a pure black vest top, tight leather pants and her black army boots. She quickly pulled her velvet red hair into a slapdash ponytail, stuck a ruthless knife into her boot and started to run._

_Clary was small for her age, barely reaching the muscled shoulders of her two brothers. Her skin was covered with runes, the black markings especially bright against her incredibly pale skin. She was also unbelievably athletic; she could beat her brothers at any race or fight. She liked that she was fast and strong, it meant her brothers respected her, and didn't consider her a little girl who couldn't do anything. Her sheer speed made sure that she reached the training room on time. The training room was massive. It was painted black. Big silver grids covered in lethal weapons lined every single wall. Up above were wooden beams, attached with bungee cords to practise back flips and jumping. It was odd, but Clary really felt at home here, surrounded by the sharp silver and blood stains. She took her place right next to her brothers, raggedy and slightly out of breath. She tried to control her breathing, if her father caught her like that he'd realise she had been late. Clary didn't want another visit to the punishment room; the idea still brought horror images into her mind. Suddenly, the doors crashed open and Valentine stormed through, instantly drawing attention as he did in every room he ever entered. He began instructing. Valentine was an incredibly harsh teacher. His method involved a lot of screeching. He needed them to be good fighters. Yelling until they got it right, he taught them move after move after move. Luckily for them, all three of them were very good at what they did so no longer encountered the full extent of Valentines wrath._

_Today, Clary fought with a spear. The handle was black and smooth, as she grasped it, it fit perfectly in her petite, pale hand, almost like an extension of her right arm. The tip of the spear was solid silver; jagged and dangerous. She spun it around her head fiercely and then flipped it around her fingers bringing it down right next to Jace's head. She could be lethal when she wanted to be. She had won the fight, but Valentine offered her no reward or smile. He looked just as severe as ever. When he did speak, he stated in a dry and cutting voice "Next time, Clarissa your spear swinging should be more fluid". Valentine never called Clary by her preferred name. He said it was too girly, not the name of a brutal shadow hunter. Not for the first time, Clary wondered why Valentine bothered to teach them himself, he evidently didn't enjoy it and he had more than enough money to hire a live-in teacher. With a shrug of the shoulders, Clary had to accept it; she would never unlock the complicated code that was her father. _

_After four hours, Valentine let them go for lunch. Clary was dripping in sweat, her breathing vastly uneven. Glancing at her brothers, she saw they were the same. She put her hands on her knobbly knees and bent over, attempting to regain her steady breathing. It was unsuccessful. She stood back up, and with her brothers in tow, she headed down to the kitchen. They passed through endless hallways decorated with beautiful pictures of ancient shadow hunters. The pictures displayed all kinds of things, the angel raziel creating the race, shadow hunters killing the filthy downworlders, portraits of Valentine himself. Seb marched off, angry that both Jace and Clary had managed to beat him. If Clary had looked closer she could have seen him muttering words of disgust and anger under his breath. But she didn't, instead she turned her head to look at Jace, her heart fluttering as it always did when he was near. Without a pause, they started their usual sarcastic banter, Clary making fun of Jace for losing to her, again. Not for the first time, Clary was struck by how different Jace was from Seb. Seb used his power as a weapon, flaunting it to anyone who would notice, whereas Jace's true strength only came out in times of great need. Jace on the whole was a relatively light-hearted, funny person whereas Seb lived his life in darkness, always a stern expression upon his face. It was true that Jace could be arrogant sometimes, but usually in a humorous way, whereas Seb was just pure obnoxious. However, the biggest difference between Jace and Seb was that Seb worshipped their father and everything he stood for whereas Jace hated him with a passion that was evident in his deep brown eyes. Clary noticed the hate because she felt the exact same thing._


	3. Chapter 2: A Great Perhaps

_**Chapter 2 **_

_The day was a Sunday, Clary's favourite day. Sunday was a glorious day as far as Clary was concerned, because Sunday was her only day off. Although she enjoyed fighting, the prospect of a day without it made her cherry lips curve into a crooked smile. She allowed herself the pleasure of a lie in, her emerald eyes dancing around her blank room. The light streamed through her thick curtains, bathing the room in a soft glow. Her unadorned, bare room suddenly seemed beautiful to her, so powerful was the effect of the light. A beam of illumination hit her pile of shining weapons, the rays reflecting at strange angles, shooting sparks at the vintage furniture. Clary had to grin; she was a person who enjoyed the simple things in life, even something as simple and innocent as light. Feeling in high spirits, she leisurely rose. Yawning slightly, she tiptoed over to her wardrobe and found her limited amount of clothes that weren't fighting gear. She pulled them on. She wore a pair of dark denim shorts with a long sleeved grey top that was loose, revealing one shoulder. Not for the first time, she wished she had a mirror in her room. It would make her life a whole lot simpler. Clary's appearance was complete guesswork, everyday. But regrettably, her father thought that putting self-worth into appearance would lower her performance and her father's word was always final. So, mirror less she began to brush her long crimson hair, an action she was still partaking in when she heard a knock on the door. The knock was light, barely audible. She was surprised, nobody usually bothered her on a Sunday, it was, after all, her only day to herself. Sighing, she casually walked towards the door, the floorboards creaking gently under her weight. What on earth could her father want now? She pondered. But it wasn't her father who stood in her doorway, to her upmost surprise it was Jace. He wore a long, soft blue shirt with tiny little white buttons all done up. He also wore dull grey jeans which his shirt was not tucked into. His hair, as always, fell perfectly into shape and his auburn eyes were wide awake with a glint of optimism and elation. His pose was relaxed; he stood with his shoulder leant against Clary's pristine white door frame. "Hey" said Clary, her face immediately lighting up, her heart racing as she attempted to remain indifferent. He smiled back at her, not his seductive, practised smile but a smile that beamed from ear to ear, making him look four all over again. She didn't ask where they were going, opting instead to just follow him down the ever winding, everlasting halls._

_Clary felt the light breeze upon her face as she walked out of the arched, wooden doors, pulling the deep black lock shut behind her. It felt good to be outside without being dressed from head to toe in clammy leather. The Morgenstern gardens were huge. Even after sixteen years of Sundays Clary had never visited all of them. Keeping the gardens in check must be a huge task, she contemplated, feeling pity for the people whose job that was. Luke, Michael, Samuel, Emil and the countless others who she did know the names of. She and Jace passed through endless gardens filled with beautiful flowers, all the colours of the rainbow. Her eyes fell upon orchids, chrysanthemums and carnations and also some flowers that were not so mundane, the petals glimmering with a hint of magic. They dawdled through the gardens, admiring with awe at the fruit trees and long grasses. Clary felt the urge to paint, to capture the light as it fell upon the plants, to portray the delicate balance of colours. She craved to run and find pencils, paper, paint, but just the sight of Jace in the corner of her eye kept her grounded. She focused on the winding path up ahead and carried on wandering through the grounds. They even saw Luke once. Spotting him, Clary raised her hand with a slight wave and offered Luke a warm smile. Luke, with a nervous glance over his bony shoulder saluted Clary back. Luke was a friend of their mothers, something Valentine didn't allow. But on occasion, when Valentine was away on "business", Jocelyn would invite Luke in and he would gather them all round the fire and tell ghost stories. Those were the memories Clary was particularly fond of. _

_Finally, Clary and Jace reached what Clary assumed was their final destination, a little patch of ever green grass. Through the heart of the meadow wound a shimmering river with a willow tree hanging over, delicately dipping its leaves into the water like a child testing the stream before jumping in. In a neat line tidied in the corner of the pasture was a row of apple trees, the striking red of the fruit contrasting with the mellow greens of the leaves. As Clary took in the surroundings, Jace led the way, flopping down on the green grass when he reached a spot close to the river. With a wave of his hand he motioned for her to sit beside him. It wasn't awkward, nothing between Clary and Jace ever was. Immediately, they settled deep into conversation, more comfortable around each other than anyone else. "So" said Clary cutting off their conversation about music. "If you could take any three things to a desert island what would you take?" "Well, I think the answer is rather obvious isn't it? I choose a boat, a seraph blade and a portion of mu shu pork." Stated Jace without so much of a pause. Clary began to laugh lightly, her shoulders shrugging impulsively as she tilted her head, and Jace smiled, the beam reaching his eyes. "Mu shu pork?" questioned Clary. "Who doesn't love Mu Shu Pork?" was Jace's reply. The pair was now laughing together. Jace stood up and walked towards one of the apple trees that were situated behind them, Clary sharp on his heels. Reaching his muscled arm upwards, Jace cupped his hand around a rosy red apple and pulled. The fruit came off into his resilient hand and he passed it to Clary, the smile never leaving his lips. He then collected one for himself and took a giant bite, hearing that satisfying crunch that apples tend to make. "The apples picked straight from the branch are always superior" stated Jace, rather randomly. Clary could only nod, her mouth stuffed full of crisp, refreshing fruit._

_The pair finished their apples in comfortable and agreed silence, giving them time to take in the extreme beauty of their backdrop. Jace had finished the last bite of his apple and was scrounging around the core for extra pieces, when Clary noticed the aging shed. Raising a straight finger she pointed in the general direction whilst simultaneously asking Jace "What's that?" "Huh" said Jace, his tone of surprise genuine. "I've never seen that before." "Looks like it's time to explore" exclaimed Clary, a devilish grin forming upon her face._

_Jace pushed at the heavy door, but try as he might it just wouldn't open. He pushed and he shoved but it was still no good. Clary pulled her eyes away from Jace's outstanding efforts and noticed a glint coming from the roof of the shed. Puzzled, she asked Jace to give her a leg up, which he did so once she'd explained to him what she had seen. As she was pushed up, her hands fumbled around the roof, feeling for the mysterious object. It was a while but eventually, her sweating, juice-stained hands felt a hunk of cold metal. Clary pulled in closer to her face and with a quick examination Clary saw it was a key. The cogs in her brain whirred and the puzzle pieces slipped into place. That's why they couldn't open the door! It was locked. She jumped down from Jace's arms, with no less than a slight stumble. Regaining her balance, she slipped the key into the lock with ease. Clary twisted her thin wrist clockwise, hearing the familiar click of a lock turning. But her eyes were not prepared for the horror that was about to reach them. Inside laid an angel, bound by thick, brutal ropes. Ithuriel. _


	4. Chapter 3: Ithuriel

_**Chapter 3**_

_Clary let out a scream of disgust, her piercing shrill echoing around the enclosed space. The angel's face was scrunched up in agony, as if struck by an everlasting scream. Deep black blood poured from profound wounds created on the surface of his arms and legs, where the ropes had burned into his pale skin. Upon his skin she also spotted puncture wounds, though whoever had made the gashes had made no effort to fix them. The angel wore a filthy white tunic, torn in places where he had tried to rebel. His blonde hair was streaked with shadows of blood, both dried and fresh. Clary willed her eyes to look away, but they were hooked like a fish on a line. She began to walk forward, slowly, meaningfully, her eyes never once leaving the tortured black eyes of the broken angel, but she felt a shaking, frosty hand upon her arm. She turned to face her captor. Jace shook his head. She could see the worry and fear evident in his golden eyes, the questions written all over his full lips. She trusted him. She took a step backwards. Clary's eyes drifted around the rest of the room, taking in her surroundings. On top of the marble counters lay hundreds of thousands of chemical bottles, each glinting a different colour, blue, green, red. She also saw horrific equipment; sharp points, needle like objects and vials filled with black gloop contacted her eyes as they grew adjusted to the darkness. She could only imagine the pain these objects were capable of. Valentine had been a tough father but he had never got as far as using torturous articles to keep his kids in check. There was also clear evidence of experimentation going on here. But what was her father doing experimenting on Angels? _

_She turned to look at Jace, a look of distress playing over her features. "Why is he here?" Clary managed to spit out, her voice trembling with an emotion way past fear. From the look on Jace's face, he had no idea, a theory that was backed up with a slow shake of the head. "Ithuriel, Ithuriel can you hear me?" Jace exclaimed, his face a mixture of various emotions. But Ithuriel seemed lost in a different world, unable to hear the confused tones of Jace. Whilst Jace tried to get a response from the tortured angel, Clary began to wander around the sinister room. The feel of the place sent shivers down her spine. Her eyes fell upon the vials of black paste, curious; she pulled one closer to her. Her mind searched for answers. What was it? She craved to know. She stared at it, but no answers jumped into her mind. Clary's olive eyes drifted past the black gloop, finding a new object to explore. Next to the black slime was a book. The book was a deep, smoky brown, bound with leather, the front crackled and torn with the sheer number of its days. Clearly, it was an old book. Clary carefully opened it; her curiosity outweighing her fear. The first page was coated in a complicated scrawl of black ink. She attempted to decode the words._

"_Day 1" It read. "Today I administered demon blood into myself. The blood seemed to improve upon my powers, making me feel stronger and more secure. I am also now faster and more skilled." There was more written, but Clary couldn't quite make it out; it would seem that some sort of ink had been spilt onto the page. She could only make out the odd word like "temporary" and "further experimentation". Clary was still lost in the business of decoding, when she heard footsteps behind her. Her and Jace's heads whipped round as if pulled by a giant invisible string and, after sharing a quick look of desperation, they bolted, leaving Clary no time to read the rest of the diary. _

_They ran and ran until they could run no more. Through endless gardens they sprinted, grass wrapping around their ankles, branches tearing at their faces. Once their hearts had been strained to the point of pure exhaustion, Clary collapsed upon a patch of dew-filled grass in between some tall, elegant flowers. Jace copied her, his body relaxing as he fell. All of Clary's emotions bubbled up inside of her until they could be contained no more. She began to sob; heavy, fat tears rolling down her face. She was confused, scared, angry and just about every emotion under the sun; all at the same time. She threw her head into her hands in distress, tucking her grass-stained knees up to her chin. "Hey" Jace said softly. "Hey, don't cry, we'll sort this out somehow, I promise." Clary began to sob harder, the tears spiralling out of control. Jace shuffled closer to Clary, enclosing her in his arms. Clary buried her head in his shoulder, allowing the steady beat of his heart to calm her down. They sat like that for a while, sharing each other's emotions until finally Clary's tears dried up. Removing herself from Jace's firm shoulders, Clary turned so that her face was level with his. Jace, who was always her rock in these situations, surely he'd know what to do? In a voice barely above a whisper, she asked him "What are we going to do now?" her mouth choking and catching on her words .To which Jace replied "I think we need to talk to mum."_


	5. Chapter 4: The truth?

_**Thank you to everyone for continuing to follow this story. If you have any suggestions or ideas for improvement, please leave them in the comments and I'll be happy to oblige :)**__** Special thanks to megansalvatoreox for always being super supportive in my writing. Also thanks to greygirl2358, Vivss and Marta for reviewing :)**_

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

_Clary and Jace walked down the dark hallway, their hands entwined. Clary could feel the warmth of Jace's palm upon her own. She resisted the urge to grin like a little kid. She felt her happiness dance inside of her. When they reached their mothers bedroom, where Jocelyn would surely be, Jace paused. His hand lingered over the russet door, about to knock, when he heard waves of whispers coming from inside the room. Tentatively, he pressed his ear against the door, urging Clary to do the same. "You've never liked me" exclaimed a voice that Clary figured was Seb's. "Not as much as Clary, not even as much as Jace and he's not even your blood relative." Jace's face fell, crumpling; he hated to be reminded of this. "I did. It was just hard; hard to cope with what you were." "What I am?" questioned Seb, viciously. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Clary could hear the faint sobs of Jocelyn as she whispered "You're becoming just like him." "Like who?" Clary could almost hear the sadistic look in his eyes. "Valentine" Jocelyn spat out the word as if it was poisoning her mouth. With that said, Seb stormed out, forcing Clary and Jace to jump out the way, his footsteps clattering loudly on the stone floor._

_Clary dashed swiftly to her mother's side. She couldn't bear to see her cry. She and her mother were particularly close. Sure, they had their arguments, show me a teenager girl and her mum who don't, but Clary still felt a deep affection for her mother. She pulled Jocelyn into a sideways hug, kneeling to join her on the dusty floor. Her mother put her head on Clary's shoulder, soaking her top with tears. Clary had to stop tears cascading out of her own emerald eyes, seeing her mother this way was painful, but she figured one set of tears was enough for the day. Clary felt a kind hand upon her own. She looked sideways to find Jace, comforting their mother on the other side, the three of them huddled together like penguins huddling for warmth. Clary's left hand slowly stroked her mother's long velvet hair. "It's okay" she soothed, just as Jace had to her, mere moments ago. "It'll all be okay" Jace uttered, his voice smoother than melted chocolate. "I've raised a monster" declared Jocelyn, her words causing another tidal wave of tears. "Ssh, hush now, whatever's going on with Seb I'm sure he'll get over it" Clary murmured, wiping the tears away from Jocelyn's doused eyes. "No, you don't understand." she cried looking deep into Clary's eyes with a look of pure fear. "Then enlighten us." added Jace, tilting his red lips into a smile. "He's, he's-"Jocelyn whispered, her voice shaking "He's not a human. He's not Angel."_

_Clary was so shocked her mind couldn't string together a sentence. Luckily Jace's brain was pretty much on the same wavelength as hers. "Wait. What?" he exclaimed, a mixed look of confusion and fear upon his angelic features. Jocelyn broke down, her crying turning to wailing. Clary pulled her into a full hug, rocking her slowly like you would a small baby, all the time stroking her shimmering hair. Clary turned to face Jace, throwing him a questioning look. He shrugged his shoulders. Clearly, he had no idea what was going on either. _

* * *

_Seeing Clary rocking his mother like that, Jace was thrown a whirlwind of memories in his head. Although they were not fused by blood, Jocelyn had never been anything but a real mother to him. He saw himself, a tiny little boy, with bright blonde hair glistening in the morning rays. Tears ran down his face. His hands were clutched to his knee, which he had scraped trying to capture Clary in a game of tag. Then, he saw his mother, hair scruffily tied up into a bun, paint splattered across her clothes, rushing towards him. Upon reaching him she pulled him up into her arms, rocking him till he stopped crying, kissing him lightly on the top of his baby curls. He saw himself point, with a shaking finger towards his knee. He witnessed Jocelyn put him safely down on the bench, whipping a plaster from her back pocket. Carefully, and with a smile, she placed the plaster on him, rubbing his knee with 'magic dust'. It hurt, watching his mother cry. He desperately wanted to comfort her as she had all those times when he was little._

* * *

_Finally, after around ten minutes, Jocelyn's cascade of tears ran dry and she was able to reward the pair with a full explanation. "When Sebastian was still inside the womb, Valentine, unknowingly to me, experimented on him. He infused his blood with that of a demon, hoping to make him stronger, faster and more agile. He wanted to create a new race, a race of dark shadow hunters. I had no idea at the time, my love for Valentine was too blinding. But, I guess he must have administered the blood through various meals and drinks. It wasn't until his birth that I realised something was terribly wrong. His eyes were black. Even the whites of his eyes were black. He had no soul, I feared. The way those eyes stared at me, as if reaching into my soul. It still haunts me. I thought I was going crazy. My own thoughts scared me; I had thoughts of murdering this little child, that's how far the fear drove me. Valentine tried to soothe me, but I could not be consoled. I shared my fears with him. I asked him what could have happened. But, he said it was just hormones from the birth and that I would get over it soon. He hid it from me; his dark, dirty secret. I wandered in a state of distress for months before I found his journal, lurking under the bed, coated in dust. As I read, the words astonished me. My son was not half angel half human. God only knows what he was now. Whether he was still part human, still part angel or whether the demon nature had just consumed him completely. I vowed to save my son. I thought about running away, I did. Especially once I realised I was pregnant with you, Clary. But I couldn't leave my child with that beast. I vowed to love him and to hope that the love would conquer over his demonic nature. But, evidently, I have failed him again, just like I did all those years ago." Jocelyn finished, tears running silently down her face. _

"_Mum, mum you have to listen to me." pronounced Clary, pulling her mother's face level with hers. "None of this is your fault. Okay? None of it. It's that twisted, sick bastard's fault. But it's not yours." Jace nodded in agreement. It was silent for a while, the life-changing words were still sinking gradually in, until Jace broke it by asking "Did- did Valentine ever get demon blood into us?" "No. No I promise you, he has never put you two at harm. I would never allow that." Jocelyn declared with as much determination as her weak state could muster. The subject was dropped and Jace and Clary mutually and silently agreed not to bring up Ithuriel; that was too much for one day._

_Jocelyn stifled a yawn. Seeing this, Clary exclaimed "Let's get you to bed." She stood up, her legs aching from the awkward position she had spent the last couple of hours sat in. Her and Jace charily pulled her mother up to her feet and dragged her worn out body to the bed. They pulled the thick, warm duvet over her body, tucking her in. Then they tiptoed across the room, pulling the door shut and turning out the lights with a quiet "click". _


	6. Chapter 5: A place for us

_**If you're reading this, Thank you. That means a lot. Special thanks to megansalvatoreox, RazielsMango, greygirl2358, Vivss and acompletenerd for reviewing :)**_

* * *

_**Chapter five**_

From that day on Clary and Jace grew closer than ever. They would share secret smiles and knowing glances in the hallways, although they had to keep any deep discussion on the down low in case any travelling ears were snooping. Neither of them still had any idea what was going on with Valentine. Of course, Clary and Jace still had training to do, but Clary's heart wasn't really in it and more often than not she found her mind wandering. In her imagination the angel was speaking to her, commanding her attention. It didn't help that she couldn't even look her father in the eye, knowing his dark secrets as she did. Her lack of focus hadn't slipped Valentines notice and Clary had found herself in the punishment room several times, but how was she supposed to focus knowing the angel was suffering just a short distance from her?

The punishment room was dark and dank; there were no windows and not a lamp in sight. Once the door was shut, you couldn't see your own shaking hand in front of your face. Clary hated the punishment room with a passion; it was where her claustrophobia had originated from. As a child her wails could have been heard from the deepest quarters of the building. She knew because whenever Jace or Seb were imprisoned inside the nightmare, she could hear their ghostly moans, stirring up not emotions of sympathy inside her but rather feelings of fear and torment. Valentine only made his children spend a night in the horror that was the punishment room for serious cases. The rest of the time he was content with a slap across the face or a whip across the back. The Morgenstern children were no strangers to corporal punishment.

After thirteen long hours of training, Clary was exhausted. Her legs felt like jelly, threatening to collapse under the weight of her body, her back grumbled with fatigue, the tiredness evident on her face. She was just heading back to her room to subside for the night when Jace caught her by the arm; a look of determination and slight excitement playing across his features. Motioning with his hand he encouraged her to follow him. Although exhausted, Clary did not hesitate, this was Jace after all. He let her catch up with him, slipping his hand into hers. Her mind raced as her heart skipped. What did this mean? Were they a couple now? Her head buzzed with a whirlwind of possibilities. It was silent, Clary thought. Maybe she should start a conversation? "So, what-"Clary said before Jace cut her off with a single finger placed over his cracked lips "Sshh, wait a minute" he uttered.

Jace and Clary walked up what seemed like endless flights of stairs, Jace looking over his shoulder once in a while. The steps creaked and moaned, causing Jace to wince. Then, they came to a door. It was brown, with deep ridges carved into it and black metal hinges. Jace let go of her hand and crouched down to the floor. He began pulling at various floorboards, testing them with his fingers. Finally, he found one that opened, which Clary presumed was what he was trying to do. Thrusting his hand inside the empty space beneath the floorboard, Jace emerged with a golden key in his hand. Turning to Clary, he smiled; a mischievous glint in his eyes. He placed the key into the lock and turned. The door swung open revealing a large, plain, wooden room behind it. "After you" stated Jace, a look of pure happiness upon his face.

Inside the room it was pitch black. Clary doubted any one had tended to this place in a long time. Just from the small beam of light that the hallway provided Clary could see peeling paint and rotten ceilings. Clary wasn't in any rush to step into the unknown; a fear of the dark was another thing that had stemmed from her long, lonely nights in the punishment room. Sensing her fear, Jace rushed to grab a candle and a box of matches hidden behind the door. The candle was small, but wax stains round the edges suggested it had not always been that way. Clearly, this was not the first time the candle had come in handy. "What is this place?" exclaimed Clary, careful not to let her voice boom across the empty space. "It's where I come to think," explained Jace "when I'm tired or angry, or just need to be alone, this is where I come. It's kind of like my own secret garden." "When did you find it" asked Clary, her mind reeling with questions. "I was about seven." Jace pondered." Valentine had just beaten me for failing to perfect a move for the second time, I was in pain and I was too proud to cry in front of anyone, so I ran off, looking for a quiet corner to bawl in, and that's when I found this place." Clary didn't apologise, she knew that Jace wouldn't want her sympathy. Lit by candlelight, the pair moved towards the middle of the room. Jace stopped and sat down cross legged, implying that Clary should do the same. "I thought we could talk here" said Jace "you know, away from eager ears." "Sounds like a plan" retorted Clary who had been desperate to get the haunting questions off of her chest.

Clary and Jace questioned, discussed, feared and deliberated for the next couple of hours. They had no curfew, Jocelyn trusted the children and allowed them freedom, especially as it was the only time they got where they didn't have to slave away, and Valentine simply didn't care. It wasn't until the flame lit up Clary's watch, that she noticed the time. It was one in the morning. "Damn." She exclaimed. "I really have to go." Jace, upon realising the hour, agreed and helped her up, walking her to the door. They tiptoed back down the creaking stairs; they didn't need another excuse to anger Valentine. When they reached Clary's room they both lingered in the doorway. "I really enjoy spending time with you" whispered Jace. Clary only smiled in what she hoped was a sweet way, wondering where this was going. Jace reached out, tucking Clary's velvet hair behind her ear. He leaned in. Before she knew it his lips were upon hers, kissing her softly, almost as if he had wanted to do that for a very long time. After a moment, they pulled away. "Goodnight" Clary said as she slipped inside her door, a smile illuminating her face.


	7. Chapter 6: Black

_**If you're reading this chapter, once again, thank you. It means a lot that people care enough to read what I've written. Please, if you have any thoughts on the story, or room for improvement, or things you'd like to see happen please leave them in the comments. Thanks again to megansalvatoreox & RazielsMango for reviewing**. _

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Training was even harder for Clary now, not only was she distracted by the thought of Ithuriel lying tortured on the stone floor but now she was also diverted by the notion that Jace was less than a few feet from her. Normally she could channel all emotion into a swift kick or a complicated manoeuvre involving a knife but at that moment she was just unfocused, preoccupied with her thoughts. Which is why she didn't notice a huge fist heading towards her face, she only felt it as it contacted, knocking all thoughts from her head. Her vision began fading.

Clary woke up. She felt the frosty, steel floor of the training room pressed against her stinging back. She felt her nose throb as if screaming in anguish. Her vision was still blurred but up above her she could make out wisps of golden hair and matching eyes filled with concern. Beyond that she could see two figures, standing with a posture that was rather menacing, as if one was a mirror of the other. The two beings stared at her, their lips curled with disgust. She could almost hear the mutters of "weak" from under their breaths. "Jace." boomed out a voice which echoed around the room at an impressive volume. "Take the girl to her room. And hurry about it. I want you back here in two minutes. Now go." Clary felt Jace gather her in his arms, gently and effortlessly as he began to walk hastily, being cautious not to bump Clary's head. "Wh-wh-what happened?" questioned Clary, her voice croaking like a dying frog. "You and Seb were fighting, and he hit you full on in the face. A powerful hit I might add, you went flying backwards, hit your head, knocked yourself unconscious" Jace stated; his voice full of fury and uncontrollable rage. Clary noticed deep red blood dripping off of her face and onto the floor, hitting the wood with a dripping noise that normally wouldn't have been audible, but amongst the silence it was deafening. Clary mustered what little energy she had left and turned her head, gradually like a malicious doll from a horror film. She noticed that Jace had passed right by her door. She meant to tell him but couldn't congregate the energy to. Her eyelids felt like stone, she was too drained to hold them open anymore; they slammed shut forcing Clary into a deep sleep.

Clary dreamed of Ithuriel. His face was crumpled in agony as he spoke in a quiet and yet demanding whisper. "You have to stop him." Ithuriel urged, the look on his face implying the matter was of great importance. "You have to stop him." the voice repeated as Clary's mind flashed through images. A glistening key hidden above a central door, an annotated map pinned to a wall, a mouldy, sea green notebook, a swarm of people in a crumbling basement, all wearing menacing cloaks with hoods, the woods, silent and dark, in the middle of the night, a single rune glowing brightly, burning the inside of Clary's eyelids and then everything went white as Ithuriel uttered one final thing. "It's you Clary, only you can stop him."

"Clary" yelled Jace his voice raw with pure emotion. "Clary, are you okay." "I think so" croaked Clary, the weight of what she had just seen dawning on her. "You were yelling, a murderous yell, it shot right through me." Jace exclaimed. "I was dreaming." replied Clary. "Well, more like nightmaring" she added. "What do you think it means, Jace?" she uttered. Jace's face was filled with confusion. "Clary, I think we need to get you some help" he muttered. Clary noticed the fear swimming in his golden eyes as he began to walk again pausing only to bang on their mother's bright black door.

Jocelyn quickly rose and scampered across the room; swinging the door open. The knock had seemed urgent. She was greeted by the sight of a tearful Jace holding a limp and bleeding Clary. Immediately, as if running on pure instinct, she pulled Clary from Jace's arms, laying her carefully on top of the clean sheets. From under the bed she pulled an old leather suitcase, about the size of a small desk and effortlessly swung it open revealing rows and rows of weapons: sharp, bone-handled knives, deadly axes, defined guns and finally, what Jocelyn was looking for, a row of steles. "Go. Now." Jocelyn yelled at Jace. "I'm staying." he replied. "She'll be fine without you" retorted Jocelyn "and your father is going to murder you if you don't get back soon. I can already hear his bellows." Jace stared at his mother, Jocelyn nodded and with one final longing glance at Clary, Jace left, Clary's screams still ringing in his ears.

**_So what did you think? Thanks for reading! :)_**


	8. Chapter 7: Revelation

**_Thank you for reading this! Thanks to megansalvatoreox and greygirl2358 for reviewing. Please if you have any ideas or comments or suggestions please leave them in the comments and please review!_**

**_Chapter Seven_**

Five days after the incident her mother decided she was fit to brace the outer world with open arms. Upon hearing the news Clary's face relaxed with relief. She hated feeling so useless, so defenceless. She saw being trapped in that room as a punishment, a reprimand for being weak, for allowing herself to be distracted. She had been so lonely, with only the whispers of the wind and the warmth of the duvet to keep her company until after Valentine had done exploiting her brothers. After training was when Jace would come, like a knight in shining armour, to relieve her from her boredom, from her depression, from her solitude. He came without fail every evening. He sat himself down in the wicker chair and they talked for hours; exchanging laughter and stories, always keeping the subject light. Clary appreciated his visits; she knew how bone-shatteringly tiring training could be and that he probably just wanted to collapse onto the bed for the night. And yet he made the effort, for her. She was guessing that she couldn't really refer to him as her brother any more. That was a little creepy. That was one of the reasons she was so scared of Jocelyn finding out about the relationship; because in some sort of capacity he was her brother. But, so far she was sure her mother had noticed something going on between them but she appeared to be only happy about the situation, which was a mammoth weight of off Clary's shoulders.

It was time to get up, to flee the nest. Clary's bones ached and grumbled as she swung round, placing her trembling feet onto the wintry floor. Her arms stung as she tried to pull on her clothes, fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. She felt like a broken toy, her worries, fears and hurt weighing her down, anchoring her to the hard floor. She caught a flash of herself in the mirror, a sinister looking purple mark seeped across her head, running from her swollen ear to her hairline. She hardly recognised the girl staring back at her, her face pale with sickness, bruises covering her body, her green eyes dull with exhaustion. She ran her fingers through her limp, greasy hair, feeling a sharp hint of pain as she touched the back of her head, another bruise. Anger bubbled inside of her. She couldn't decide who she hated more; Valentine or Sebastian.

Thankfully, the day was Sunday, so although she was no longer bed-ridden she also did not have to face training. She limped across the floor, feeling the sting with each step. There was only so much an iraze could do. Although the rune healed bone structure it did not necessarily make the recovery any easier. Even if the bones had been whipped back into shape, the ache still remained. She had just reached the doorway, her gate to freedom, when she bumped into Jace. "Hey" she said, smiling a broken smile. Before, they had had to censor their conversations, no talk of Ithuriel, notebooks or any of the questions that had been pressing on Clary's mind. Now, however they were free to go wherever they wanted, and discuss what they both thrived to discuss.

Clary grimaced and bore the pain. There was no way she was showing any kind of anguish in front of Jace, she was not a weak soul who needed saving, she was a strong warrior to be wary of. Not even Seb could change that. Jace caught Clary's hand and together they drifted down the hallway. With each step Clary felt lighter, her worries drifting away, just for a little while. She was free. She was with Jace. Life could be a lot worse.

Jace did not take the forbidden stairs leading to the attic as Clary had thought he would, instead opting to take the door that led to the world outside. The rain poured, drenching both Jace and Clary within seconds. The water was refreshing, washing away all the grime of illness and making Clary feel whole and pure again. All Clary wanted to do was raise her arms to the sky and twirl round, soaking up the water, immersing herself in it. Clary felt the water hit her arms, the raindrops bursting and coating her skin with the water of life. She heard the rain drumming on the rooftops as if it was the song of someone mightier, someone up above. She could see the familiar view of green, behind a blurred sheet of endless rain. That was the thing, when you spent so much of your life inside, you learn to ravish every moment Mother Nature offered. She heard a slight tinkle of laughter through the haze of the pounding rain, she opened her drenched eyes, which she hadn't even noticed were closed, seeing Jace standing right beside her, his face close to hers. She noticed the way his cheekbones curved, the way his golden eyes sparkled, the way the raindrops clung to his hair. He really was a work of the angels, she thought. She felt his hands slide around her waist, bringing her closer to him, closer to his heart. His body radiated heat, contrasting against the ongoing frostiness of the ice rain. Jace tilted his head closer to Clary and kissed her, more deeply than before. She ran her hands through his silky blond hair, feeling the damp of the drizzle prickle her fingertips. She could hear the persistent tapping of the rain as she felt Jace's warm lips upon her own. They broke apart, both of their faces lit up in a smile shared with each other. Laughing, Jace grabbed her hand and together they ran, happy and carefree through the gardens. Clary felt lighter than air.

Clary felt confident and refreshed with her delicate hand encompassed in Jace's. She felt that they were ready, ready to pay Ithuriel another visit. So, when she saw the dark building on her peripheral vision, she felt no fear. Instead she turned her head towards Jace, smiled and strode towards the shack.

When they reached the old shed, Jace dug his hands deep into his pockets as if he were looking for a long lost treasure, resurfacing with a golden key. Clary noticed that he was still beaming. Neither of them appeared to be able to wipe the smiles off their faces. He slotted the shining key into the door, using his strength to push the stiff door open. Once again Clary and Jace were faced with the sinister look of the place, the misery that hung in the air, cloaking the atmosphere, sucking the life out of the room. Hand in hand they walked towards Ithuriel. Jace placed his hand upon Ithuriel's hand as if to comfort him in this time of sheer need and pain. But, instead he was presented with a deep vision.

Jace saw a boy with long golden locks and matching eyes, no more than two years old. The boy toddled around a white room, his chubby feet pounding upon the wooden floor. He saw a man come towards the child, his face kind and bright. Upon seeing the man, the young boy exploded into a fit of laughter and joy, his face beaming with innocence and youth. The man's face lit up too, he let out a deep chuckle as he picked the child up in his big, safe hands, cradling him against his chest.

Next, Jace saw the same little boy, this time a little older, perhaps three. The boy was sat in a pristine clean high chair, whacking his brightly coloured, plastic spoon against the tray table, a legitimate smile coating his face. Jace saw a woman with long mousy brown hair and golden eyes come towards the child, a bowl of some kind of food held in her hand. She sat down beside the toddler, removing the spoon from the child's iron grip. She used the spoon to collect the food and deposit it into the boy's mouth. This continued for several minutes, the woman laughing occasionally at the child's youthful antics.

The image went blank and the final puzzle piece slipped into place. Jace knew he recognised the child. For the child was himself.


	9. Chapter 8: Fairwell

_**Thanks for reading and please review!**_

_**Chapter Eight**_

Jace had never possessed any memories of his life before he had arrived at the Morgenstern manor. But with the urge from Ithuriel, the moments came flooding back like a tidal wave. He remembered who he was. What his real last name was. Valentine had always claimed that he didn't know the true identity of Jace, instead insisting that the past is the past. It dawned upon Jace. He was a Herondale. He could get out of this mysterious place, with its cruel treatment, he had somewhere to go. He had a home. But there was things keeping him there. Well, one thing really; Clary.

"Jace" shouted Clary "Jace! Can you hear me?" Jace eyes met hers, returning from their state of cloudiness, returning from a place deep inside.

"Yes" he stated his voice quivering.

"Are you okay?" said Clary, the worry evident in the pitch of her voice.

"Yes. Ithuriel showed me something. A vision, I think. Clary, I remember who I am."

"Who you are?" Said Clary, her voice layered with confusion.

"Who I was. Before I came here. I'm a Herondale." Jace stated.

"Oh. And Ithuriel showed you this?" questioned Clary.

"Yes"

"Because he showed me something too." said Clary.

"He did?"

"Yes. A couple of days ago. At the time I thought it was just a hallucination brought on by my concussion. But now? I'm sure it was a message from Ithuriel." explained Clary

"Well, what did he say?" Jace asked, slightly annoyed that she had waited so long to tell him.

"It's a little foggy. A little confusing. But, he said 'you have to stop him.' And then something about only me being able to stop him. He showed me lots of pictures, too. Clues, I guess, to stop whoever he was on about." Clary said hurriedly, aware that there was a huge chance that she would sound completely crazy.

"Stop who?" Jace said, confused.

"I don't know." whispered Clary, equally as confused.

Jace and Clary stood up. Their clothes covered in layers of thick dust and grime that they had picked up from the unsanitary floor. Clary noticed Jace scanning his golden eyes across the room like a lion searching for pray.

"Are you looking for something?" she asked.

"A seraph blade. We can't just leave Ithuriel here like this." Jace replied.

"You're going to set him free?!" said Clary, the shock evident in her voice.

"He deserves to be free, Clary" said Jace, low and serious.

"But if he's gone Valentine will know we've been here. He'll kill us. And then we'll never find out what he was doing here." retorted Clary.

Jace paused as if considering this. Clary could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning.

"He's suffering, Clary. Look at him." Jace said finally. And it was true. Ithuriel's face was set in a permanent shape of distress and unimaginable pain. Clary couldn't bear to stare at his face any longer. She looked deep into Jace's golden eyes and nodded, her head feeling heavy with a whole array of emotions.

Jace rooted through an old box that stood, gathering dust, in the corner of the room. It was leather, worn with use and coated in silvery cobwebs. In various places the leather had cracked, only adding the authenticity of the object. The hinges groaned with age as Jace opened them up. Inside sure enough was a vast assortment of weapons. The silver glinted, bright against the contrasting cloak of darkness that coated the room. Sure enough, amongst the weapons was a seraph blade. It was a dull, medium sized tube; a seraph blade in its deactivated state. Grasping the blade in his pink hand, Jace called

"Ithuriel". The blade sprang to life, glowing so bright that its illumination lit up the shed. Jace passed the seraph blade to Ithuriel, allowing him to take it in his shaking, bloodied hand. By stabbing himself with the blade Ithuriel would depart his torturous journey here on earth and return to his rightful place in heaven. Clary couldn't look. Covering her eyes with her delicate palms, she turned and buried her head in Jace's warm chest. His arms encircled her shoulders without thinking about it, as he watched Ithuriel disappear, leaving behind just a pile of blood-soaked ropes. It was over.

Clary looked up. Noting that Ithuriel had vanished, she began poking around the rest of the room; she was going to find out what Valentine was up to, either way. She returned back to the ancient green notebook, starting where she left off. She turned the pages delicately, cautious not to rub any precious ink off of the fragile pages. With each page she turned, more dust flew up, tickling her nostrils. Jace watched her. She seemed so entranced as if the world outside had disappeared, leaving only her and the book. Jace got the sense that anything could have happened and Clary wouldn't of noticed; she was lost in a world far more magical than the one they knew; a world of reading.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Jace too was trying to see what was going on. He picked up clear glass vials filled with various different mixtures and shook them. Raising his perfectly arched eyebrows with interest as he soaked up the results. After five minutes Jace disrupted the silence.

"We really ought to go." he said, a smile creeping across his lips.

Clary agreed, slipping the notebook into her pocket. Jace walked over, sliding his hand into her own and they left the room, locking the door behind them. They could never return now.

Clary and Jace walked through the gardens. The rain had eased off, leaving the grass sparkling with dewdrops, the flowers bright colours glistening. Some day, when she got time, she would paint this, Clary thought. She couldn't believe how lucky she was. Here she was, meandering through breathtaking scenery, hand in hand with a downright beautiful boy who liked her. Her heart skipped a little.

Without either of them pausing to consult the other, somehow the pair ended up at their attic. Once again, Jace fumbled with the key in the lock, lit the dripping candle and sat cross-legged on the floor. Clary dragged the battered book from her pocket, placing it in the fraction of space that separated her from Jace. She read aloud.

"Day 2. Since finding out how to raise demons, I have come up with an idea. So far, the effects of demon blood seem to increase power, speed, stamina, coordination, strength, agility and durability. All qualities that shadow hunters already have, but not in as abundant of a source as I would like. Shadow hunters need more of these qualities. And seen as I see no side effects, I feel that all shadow hunters should acquire demon blood, to become a better race.

Day 6. So, injecting yourself with demon blood only gives off a temporary effect. Interesting. And still very much useful. I wonder if a stronger dosage would help. Or maybe if you mixed it into someone younger?

Day 10. Jocelyn is pregnant. The perfect experimentation to see if injecting foetuses makes the effect more permanent. But how to do it?

Day 13. I have decided to raise greater demon Lilith and ask for her blood to use upon the foetus. Maybe a greater demon will be more effective.

Day 19. I have administered the demon blood to Jocelyn. She was unsuspecting. Lilith allowed me to use her blood, but warned me that the child would lose all humanity. I explained to her that the human element of shadow hunters only holds them back. I have confidence that this experimentation will work."

Clary stopped reading. She felt that that was enough for their tired brains to take in for one night. She simply stared at Jace, his face mirrored her own. Disgusted, sickened and afraid. "So, Valentine is a lot crazier than we thought." stated Jace, earning a small laugh out of Clary.

They both rose together, leaving the notebook safely locked away within the depths of the room. Jace pocketed the key. As usual, their hands were entangled. Clary glanced out of the window. Since they had left the gardens, the sun had set to be replaced with the lustrous moon. They walked past the window and down to Clary's door, Jace gently kissing her in the glow of the moonlight before she slipped inside her door and into bed, falling asleep as her head hit the pillow.

_**Thanks to megansalvatoreox, greygirl2358, churchthecat and nkiing for reviewing :)**_


	10. Chapter 9: Changes

_**Thank you to greygirl2358, megansalvatoreox and churchthecat for reviewing. Please read and review! Enjoy!**_

_**Chapter Nine**_

_Clary and Jace met up every night from there on out, reading more and more from the dust filled pages of the journal. Clary wasn't going to pretend that these outings, sat in the dark, dank attic surrounded only by the glow of candlelight and the musky smell of times gone by was romantic, but it was nice to spend some time with Jace that didn't involve demon hunting. As they read they learnt more and more about the intriguing 'hobbies' of their father. They travelled a journey together through shock and dismay, anger and distress; and they weren't even half way through. They learnt of Valentine's hurt when his father died, the bitterness that followed, his hatred of all down worlders. Both of their jaws dropped open when they realised Valentine had taken angel blood as well as demon blood, hence why Ithuriel had been enslaved. Their knowledge and shared hatred towards Valentine only brought them closer together and Clary could feel their relationship deepening. _

_Jace was sitting on the dusty floor, his back arched against the mould filled walls of the attic. Clary was perched on his knee, her red hair flowing into his shoulder, her arms slung around his neck. Together they read the journal, entranced by the secrets it held. Every so often, Clary would stop reading, her eyes drifting towards Jace's face. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were serious, lost in concentration. Jace caught her looking and smiled, his eyes sparkling with joy and love. She leaned into him, both of them now fully distracted from the reading. "I love you" she whispered against his lips. _

"_I love you too" Jace said as he kissed her, his hands running through her hair._

_They sat like that for a while, content in the circle of each other's arms before turning their eyes back towards the pages. "There's some words missing here." said Jace, his voice deep and hushed. "Huh." stated Clary "Maybe there's a rune for that?" _

"_I assure you there isn't" said Jace, a hint of well-intentioned arrogance slipping into his voice._

"_Well we could try." whispered Clary, pulling a shiny silver stele from the depths of her back pocket whilst climbing down from Jace's knee. Hesitantly she pictured what she wanted to draw in her mind, letting her hand flow independently. She felt the cool air gliding past her fingers as they moved, wholly concentrated on creating this rune. All Clary's energy was focused on the rune, she felt the energy drain from her and into it. She felt the magic at her fingertips. She could sense Jace's eyes watching with amusement and some curiosity through the closed lids of her eyes. It was so silent you could have heard a pin drop. Opening her eyes, she saw what she had drawn, a rune shaped like a figure of eight with a weave running through it. She was positive she had never seen it before._

"_Uh, Clary where did you find that? It's not in the book" Jace said, his eyes wide open with surprise._

"_I don't know I've never seen it before"_

"_That's impossible. You can't make up runes." said Jace._

"_But I just did. It's the rune of revealed secrets."_

"_Do you know what this means, Clary?" said Jace his voice rising a whole new octave. "Umm no?"_

"_You have a gift. A super power, if you like."_

"_I would hardly call being able to draw runes a superpower." Clary scoffed, pink rising to her cheeks as she blushed slightly. "Sure it is." Jace said pulling Clary closer to himself. So close Clary could feel his heart beat. He made her feel stronger, more confident. "So how does it feel to be dating a superhuman?" Clary said as she kissed Jace, her lips moving in time with his own, the notebook abandoned for the night._

_Clary lay awake in the darkness, sleep eluded her. No matter how hard she tried her mind would not swim out of the deep waters of her thoughts. Her mind flashed through ideas, trying to understand the vast amount of newly soaked in information. The moon shone brightly through the window like a beacon of hope in a long-lost world. She was reminded of Jace. Truth be told everything reminded her of Jace nowadays. She guessed she was more of a hopeless romantic than she had thought. Soon her thoughts faded from Jace and set again upon the whirlwind of emotions tied to that journal. She was sure she was missing something. Why did she have a power? Where did it come from? Is this what Ithuriel meant? The questions were being spat out of an endless source hidden deep in the wires of Clary's drained brain. She had to sleep, she thought. She would think about this more tomorrow. _

_But alas, her brain still refused to take a break, tormenting her again and again. Sighing, she gave up even trying; swinging herself out of bed and placing her bony feet on the frosty floor. She tiptoed cautiously and quietly down the corridor, the moon at her back. It felt good to walk down the seemingly endless corridors, her mind flooding with memories, both good and bad. The memories were a distraction to her; they took her mind off the ongoing questionnaire in her head. Her bare feet led the way; she had no idea where she was going. And yet somehow she was drawn to the library. As she approached the heavy wooden doors, she noticed a dimming glow beaming from the edges of the door. Who was in the library at this time? She wondered. _

_Her heart pounded and her stomach turned as she poked her head round the door, she wasn't sure whether she was equipped to fight off a vicious burglar in her current state. Peering vigilantly, her eyes caught the familiar flow of golden hair, too short to belong to her father. Jace. Sensing her presence, his head whipped round. Upon seeing her, his golden eyes lit up, making them even more beautiful than before. "What are you doing here?" questioned Clary a torrent of scenarios running through her already shattered brain. "Finding out more about my parents." retorted Jace and Clary was reminded of the boy who had arrived thirteen years ago, complete with big lost eyes and a wobbling smile. "And did you find anything?" asked Clary, slipping her hands around his waist, feeling guilty about distrusting him. "Actually, yes. I found a whole background on them. Where they live-"Jace continued talking but Clary was no longer listening, her mind zoned out completely as her hands dropped from his waist. Where they live. The words shot like daggers through her brain. Did this mean he was leaving? She knew he ached to know his parents, his real family. She knew he hated the abundant cruelty here. But she couldn't bear to lose him. Not now. _


	11. Chapter 10: The Truth Can Be Ugly

**Thank you for reading and thank you to RazielsMango, greygirl2358 and Megansalvatoreox for reviewin :)**

**Chapter 10**

A piercing scream shattered Clary's dream. The pieces of her vision broke like a glass window until the reverie was no longer attainable. The roar sounded again, waking her up faster than a freezing cold bucket of water to the head. The cry sounded distressed and angry; the wail of a tortured man. Clary's mind was sharp with confusion, what the hell could that be? She wondered, her distressed mind performing alarm bells. Before long she heard the echoed banging of thunderous footsteps upon the wooden floor. Without a pause, the door slammed open, making the whole room tremble and quiver, like a little boy in front of a homicidal giant. In came Valentine, a look of murder written all over his face. Pounding towards her, he grabbed Clary by the ear and hauled her out of bed and down the corridor, her feet dragging along the floor, gaining blisters and splinters. Eventually, her father let go and Clary felt her ear ache and bruise. She rubbed it tenderly, making sure to keep pace with Valentine. Glancing to her left, she saw Jace, his hair was tousled and unkempt, Cleary he had been wrenched from the safety of his bed, just like her. Clary had to run to keep up with her tempered father, her bare feet bumping against the harsh floor. Finally, Valentine reached his destination; the library.

Still in cover of darkness, he slammed the heavy door shut with his heal. The bang that followed was enough to cause Clary to jump out of her skin. She was officially terrified. Valentine whipped his head round. His jaw was clenched into a position that could not be comfortable, his eyes were white with pure rage, a sickening blue vain popped out of his thick neck; Clary could almost see the foam bubbling from his mouth. "Don't think you have me fooled." yelled Valentine. Just the tone of his voice made Clary quake with fear as the memories of her childhood came flooding back. "I know what you two did." he screamed, enraged. "What?" said Jace, feigning innocence. Valentine was taking no prisoners, with an almighty scream he raised his hand slapping Jace hard across the face, causing him to fall backwards and hit his head, savagely, on a wooden bookcase. Clary screamed involuntarily, the sight of Jace's bleeding head stirring up emotions deep inside. With a rush of confidence she ran at Valentine digging her nails into his face, but her father was well trained. He flicked her off like she was no more than a fly. Valentine once again grabbed the pair by their ears, pulling them level with his giant, unnerving face, ignoring their pleas and pained expressions. "Now admit to me what you did and the punishment will be less severe" Valentine drawled. Clary had forgotten the sheer brutality of her father. The pair remained stonily silent. The tension in the air was so thick that you could have cut it with a knife. "Ah, the silent treatment, I see. Do we need a little persuading?" He said with a smile so evil, Clary was surprised he didn't start cackling. They continued in silence. With a cry of anger and annoyance, Valentine dropped them both letting them hit the floor with a satisfying thud. Clary thought it was over, when in reality, it had only just begun.

Valentine returned, a heavily malicious weapon clutched tight in his grip. "Now who to choose? The lady? Or her lover?" he hissed. Clary blushed, so he had noticed. "You lay a hand on her and I'll kill you." Jace spat out the words with venom and malice, but Valentine merely laughed. "Ah, playing the brave knight are we?" said Valentine.

"Well in that case, I think she can go first". Grabbing her wrist he pulled her towards the wall. Clary writhed and wriggled but could not escape her father's iron grip. Valentine pushed her to the ground as a tear escaped her eye. Standing back, he raised the whip high, bringing it down forcibly and hard. Clary felt the lash on her back as the rope dug deep into her skin. She felt the pain shoot through her spine as the scarlet, warm blood began to ooze. She had to bite her lip to stop a cry of pure anguish from escaping; she would not give him the satisfaction he craved. Jace could only watch, his hands bound by cords, as he saw Clary's face contort in pain, as he heard her muffled cries and as he watched her back welt and bleed. If Valentine had wanted to crack him, he had definitely found his weak spot. Valentine brought down the whip again and again and again, until Clary broke, a sodden, shattered heap on the floor, her back no more than a mess of red flesh.

Valentine felt no mercy, seeing his daughter so destroyed. No kin of his would treat him like that. As far as he could see Clary was now a stranger to him. He ignored Clary's wails of agony as he stepped, slowly and meaningfully towards the boy, a smile of pure evil spreading across his lips. He had just reached the spot where Jace lay, hopelessly, when the door cracked open with an ear splitting bang.

"You leave them alone!" Clary heard a voice yell through the loud throbbing of her ears. She mustered up the effort, to turn round, her back feeling like it was on fire. Through her tear stained eyes, she saw her mother. She stood like an angel in the doorway, her saviour, her liberator. A look of pure determination glowed from Jocelyn's face. "What are you gonna do about it" stated Valentine, his voice teasing. "It wasn't them. They know nothing about It." whispered Jocelyn.

"Oh, I beg to differ" mocked Valentine.

"But it's true. They couldn't have done it. Because it was me. I did it." Clary struggled to hide the shock spreading across her wounded face. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Because you'd never believe your own wife could be a traitor."

"Of course it was you. You were always were soft."

"Yes I was." said Jocelyn, admitting defeat.

"And the notebook?"

"Burnt." Valentines face filled with anger as he grabbed hold of Jocelyn's wrist, pulling her viciously out of the room, towards the direction of the punishment room.

The door slammed shut and Clary and Jace just looked at each other, both unable to move. Out of the corner of her eye, Clary saw a knife. Wriggling on her stomach, ignoring the shooting pain exuding from her spine, she moved, one inch at a time until finally her blood-stained hand clutched the cool knife. With all the effort she could claim, she slid the knife towards Jace, allowing him to cut through the ropes binding his hands.

As soon as he was free, he rushed over to Clary, tears sparkling in his golden eyes as he attempted to gather her in his arms. It was difficult, there was no position for him to carry her in which she wasn't screaming from the burn in her back. Eventually he had to settle for a position, medical help was more important. As he carried her down the hallway, he was struck with a sense of déjà-vu. Just a few weeks ago he had been carrying Clary down this very same corridor. That time her pain had been caused by her brother, this time her father. She didn't deserve this world, Jace thought. He decided that she couldn't stay here any longer.

As he was turning the brass door knob of his mother's door he heard high shrills echo through the house, setting his teeth on edge. He was reminded of Jocelyn's brave sacrifice, her love that had saved them. He was suddenly bowled over, overwhelmed with the sense that this was all his fault. Clary had warned him of Valentine when he had released Ithuriel and now here she was suffering in his arms, her dry lips unable to even form the words I told you so. He heard Jocelyn's screams, Clary's blood dripped onto the floor, all my fault, Jace thought, his head filled with a dull and constant ache.

He laid Clary down, her back upwards, on Jocelyn's bed. Timidly, he pulled off what remained of Clary's ripped shirt, he had no idea what he was doing. He grabbed a stele off of the bedside table and, finding a piece of skin that wasn't damaged, he drew an iratze onto Clary's limp skin. Within seconds she was passed out.

Jace sat hunched over, weeping in the chair next to Clary's bed for hours, listening to endless tormented screams of his mother. Valentine had always told him that crying was pathetic and it was hard to shake the part of him that laughed at him as he let go of his emotions. But Valentine was a monster, he reminded himself.


	12. Chapter 11: Forgive and Forget?

_**Im sorry this is so short, but you know school. Thanks so much to RazielsMango, Guest, Fighting the Inevitable, greygirl2358, megansalvatoreox and churchthecat for reviewing! **_

_**Chapter 11**_

Jace opened his eyes. They were still blurry from the depths of his dream. The edges of objects were smudged, forming an abstract painting in his head. He moved his neck, a sharp pain shooting through. He had fallen asleep with his head hanging down, his hand still grasping Clary's. Slowly, his eyes began to focus. He looked over at Clary, her face beautiful despite the heavy scarring, her eyes closed peacefully as she slept and her eyelashes flickering from time to time as she continued to be lost in the land of dreams. He looked beyond her. There was Jocelyn, her hair the same rich scarlet as her daughters, her skin the same glowing white. The only difference between the two was the lines that coated Jocelyn's face, an indication of the years she had spent on this planet. When had she gotten here? He thought. Her body was covered in scars and dotted with patches of burgundy blood, though he could see that the iratze had healed most of the damage. He felt guilty, he should have gone down and carried her upstairs after Valentine had finished, it must have been agony for her to pull her damaged body up the steps. He mentally kicked himself for falling asleep, dealing with the broken pieces was the least he could have done after her noble sacrifice.

Carefully removing his hand from Clary's, he walked round to the other side of the bed, tiptoeing so as not to wake anyone up. He had just reached the corner of the bed when he was faced with a surprise. There, lay fast asleep on the rigid floor was Seb.

He kicked him viciously. "You have the audacity to come here?" he yelled, no longer caring about waking anyone up. "You support the man who almost beat your sister and your mother to death and you come here? To what? Bathe in your own glory?" he shouted, kicking him hard in the ribcage again. Seb stood up, so he was eye level with Jace, but for once he didn't wear that cocky, arrogant smile. The look in his eyes was genuine and heartfelt as he uttered in a small voice "I'm sorry."

"Sorry! You think sorry can cover this?" Jace said his golden eyes filling with a furious fire. "Look at them. Can't you see the pain you and that monster have caused them?"

"Look. Just be quiet for a second. Yes, I did some horrible things to Clary and to you and to Mum. But you have to listen to me. I am no longer affiliated in any way with that monster. That's the past, it's behind me. Just one look at Mum lying there broken on the floor taught me that. I picked her up, I brought her here and I healed her with an iratze. I'm a changed man. Valentine's a monster. I understand that now."

"And why don't I believe you?" questioned Jace, the fury still evident in his voice. "You don't understand. None of you do. I get these rushes of emotion, of anger where it's all I can do to stop myself from injuring people. It's like there's a side of me that agrees with Valentine, a monstrous side that's in a constant battle with my other half. But seeing the pain Valentine has inflicted, the devastation he's left behind, that monstrous side has disappeared. You don't understand." Seb uttered.

But Jace did understand. He knew Valentine's secret. He knew why Seb felt like he was in a constant battle with himself. He knew of the demon black blood that flowed through Seb's veins. He understood, but he was not sympathetic.

All the screaming had woken Clary up, her head banging like a herd of elephants in a cave. She felt the warmth of a human being lying next to her. She heard a soft voice, speaking, their voice full of meaning and depth. She opened her eyes, her eyelids felt like they were being held down by giant slabs of stone. When she finally forced them open, her emerald eyes were greeted by the oddest sight of Jace and Seb sat down, talking. Jace with an element of anger and disgust portrayed on his face and Seb's face was lit up with happiness and sincerity. "What's going on?" she croaked, her voice sounding scratchy and old. Jace immediately rushed over, kneeling next to her, his face filled with concern as he lightly stroked her hair. "Nothing" he said planting a light kiss on her forehead. "Do you feel any better?" said Seb as Jace shot him a deadly glare. "Well, let me think about it. My back got torn to shreds by my father, my head got smashed as I hit the floor and now I have a rune burning into my flesh." Seb looked taken aback but Jace only smiled as he continued to run his long fingers through her knotted red hair. What had Seb expected? Immediate forgiveness? That he'd come in as the hero, tell his little story and Capture everyone's hearts? Jace thought.


	13. Chapter 12: Live in the Memories

_**Thank you to Greygirl2358 for reviewing. Hope you like this chapter.**_

* * *

_**Chapter Twelve **_

Seb stood in the corner, his eyes staring into the blackness of the wall, cobwebs and dust tickling his pale skin. Jace had sent him there, but he held no bitterness or resent. He was content with his decision and felt prepared to brave the consequences. From behind him he heard faint drifting whispers, like vapour creeping across a creek. His sharp ears tuned in. He could catch the odd word amongst the thick fog of the blurred phrases. He heard a deep male voice harshly whisper something about "Trust" and "The enemy". His ears also picked up a higher female voice counter with words like "brother" and "changed". His palms sweated, he didn't want to be sent back to hell's quarters with Valentine. He needed his siblings to trust him.

* * *

"We can't let him stay here!" whispered Jace his tones gradually getting louder and louder. "I'm almost certain he's a spy!" Clary sighed.

"Look Jace this is the last time I'm saying it. He's my brother. He was compassionate and kind-hearted once and I believe he can grow to become so again. I'm letting him stay and if you don't like it you're going to have to leave." The fire burned bright in Clary's eyes as Jace stared into them; their first fight.

Clary called out with the voice of someone far older than her years, "Seb, you can stay." A warm glow filled Seb, he had been accepted and he was loved. He felt the emotion swell up inside of him; he was indestructible. That was until he saw Jace's face. Never before had Seb appreciated the phrase 'if looks could kill' as much as he did now. Jace's jaw was clenched, his mouth pursed into a furious frown, his eyes bored through Seb as if staring into his soul. Seb felt his heart sink, it was so unusual for him of recent times, experiencing all these human emotions.

Keeping his eyes locked onto Seb's, Jace marched across the wooden floor, his boots clanging and banging, echoing around the room. He placed his hand upon the door and twisted the lock. Seb was suddenly reminded of Uncle Luke's ghost stories, of crackling fire places and ghostly moans. An involuntary shiver shattered Seb's spine. Jace paced back to the bed, entwining his hand with Clary's once more.

Clary sat up, removing her head from the support of the plush pillow. Her back aching, she slipped her delicate hand underneath the fabric and produced the tattered, green notebook. "Read to me" she said her voice croaking, making her seem vulnerable. Just the sounds of her voice made Jace want to gather her in his arms and never let her go. Jace took the book from her and opened up the ancient pages, dust flying up out of it. Clary could hear the soft snores of Jocelyn and turning towards Seb she could see that his eyes were wide open with curiosity and mild shock. "I trust you, Seb, I really do. But, I don't think you're quite ready to hear this yet. There are a lot of things Jocelyn has to explain to you before you can dive into the world of this book. I would hate to be the one to break it to you. That wouldn't be right. I hope this isn't too much to ask but would you mind pretending like nothing happened today? Keeping up a facade to Valentine and reporting back to us?" With that Clary burst into a fit of coughing, her eyes watered and her face flushed the same shade as her hair. Jace soothed her, patting her back with a smile sickly sweet with the air of love. Jace turned up to look at Seb. "You can go now." He said.

Clary settled down as the door clicked shut, locked. Jace began to read, the simple letters on the page turning into words in his mouth.

"Day 23: since then, I have administered the blood on a daily basis. All seems to be going well.

Day 32: Jocelyn is waking up every night, drenched in sweat and deluded by nightmares. The demon blood appears to be having side effects. It is a small price to pay and Jocelyn will have to endure, for the bigger picture.

Day 68: I have enslaved the angel Ithuriel. Demon blood is exhilarating but it is only temporary. I have high hopes for the prospect of angel blood.

Day 79: The angel blood gives me bounds of strength. I feel euphoric and invincible.

Day 200: Not long now to the baby and future king of shadow hunters arrives. Jocelyn's face is sunken, her eyes ringed and her skin grey but there seems to be no health issues. All is going to plan.

Day 205: Jocelyn grows ever more suspicious.

Day 213: Today Luke confronted me. Accused me of all kinds of things. Some of it was not too far from the truth. He shall have to be eradicated.

Day 217: Luke has been dealt with. He was 'accidently' bitten on a hunt. It may have been a full moon.

Day 240: Today Luke shows up. He is a werewolf. I asked him to shoot himself and he did. Even he knew what a despicable creature had become. Problem solved.

Day 252: The baby was born today; healthy. His eyes are a deep midnight black, the shade mine turn under the influence of demon blood, which to me is increasingly interesting and curious. Jocelyn screamed and panicked. But, all is well.

Day 257: Jocelyn grows ever more skittish and depressed. She cannot take the experiment. But I can. I love our little king.

Day 400: Jocelyn continues to mope. I am worried for her. I remember the euphoric feeling the angel blood gave me? Maybe that will help?

Day 408: I administered the angel blood, Jocelyn seems considerably more perky and of course, unaware."

Jace slammed shut the book, no longer caring about the fragile binding or the breakable pages. His face was an ashy white, his eyes grave, his mouth fixed in a straight line. "Clary" he said in a sombre tone. "What is the age difference between you and Seb?" Clary looked puzzled; the pieces had not yet fit into place. "Fourteen months. Why?" Clary asked, the haziness of the iratze clouding her usually sharp brain. "Clary, Jocelyn was pregnant with you when she was given angel blood. The blood of Ithuriel runs through your veins." Jace whispered looking deep into the emerald sea of her eyes, watching as the realisation struck her face like a lightning bolt.

_**Thank you for reading. Please review!**_


	14. Chapter 13: A rollercoaster going up

_**I'm really sorry this is late but I've been very busy recently. Thanks to RazielsMango, Megansalvatoreox and younge0508 for reviewing!**_

* * *

**Chapter 13**

"You're the only one who can stop him" The whisper whirled around her head; just a ghost of a distant memory. The words were echoing and bouncing, as if craving an escape. The remembrance was continuing to swivel in her mind; when it dawned upon Clary like a light bulb. That was why she had felt such a strong connection to Ithuriel, why his whispers had run through her brain; his blood ran through her veins. Part of him lurked within her. You would think that the thought would make Clary shudder, but in fact it made her smile. She had someone powerful. Someone up above looking out for her and not in the way the mundanes thought. They were just kidding themselves. This; this was real. She could imagine Ithuriel right now, surrounded by heavenly light, his white, flowing clothes and pale skin blending into the illumination, becoming part of it, his angel heart binding him to heaven, like a spell. She saw him as a father figure to her, watching over her and caring. It warmed her heart.

* * *

Jace waved his hand in front of Clary's face but her eyes remained glassy, lost in a deeper thought, in a different world entirely. Slowly, his eyes drifted past hers and got caught upon the empty space beside her, the mould of Jocelyn's outline still ingrained on the mattress. As soon as she had felt strong enough Jocelyn had gone to find Luke, she had some important things to discuss. Jace returned his eyes to Clary's. Subsequently, her eyes snapped back and the cloudy haze began to clear. Upon seeing Jace, her face broke out into a beaming smile. Jace rested his forehead against Clary's staring into her green eyes.

"Are you okay?" he said

"I know this is huge news."

"Yes. But... I like it. I know that sounds crazy" she said casting her eyes to the ground "It's like if I have all this angel blood inside of me, maybe it balances out the evil blood naturally passed down from Valentine y'know?" Clary's voice wobbled on the end, a desperate look written all over her face, she just wanted, no, needed Jace to grasp what she was trying to say.

"I understand. I do. But, Clary you have to know. Who you are has nothing to do with Valentine. He is not you. You are not him. You are the nicest, kindest person I know and I love you with all of my heart."

Hearing this, Clary's heart swelled until it could barely be contained in her chest and, instinctively she kissed him, her lips moulding perfectly to fit his own. She had forgotten what this was like. It'd been far too long. To her, it felt like it had been years since she had felt the warmth of his lips upon her own when in reality it had only been a few days. She had missed this. Unknowingly, and subconsciously she had longed for this.

Jace pulled away, his hand still entwined with Clary's, their foreheads still resting against each others. He could not wipe the smile of his face. "Are you feeling better now?" he asked. Clary smiled "Well you help." she said causing Jace's lips to erupt into an even wider grin. She sat up, pushing her hands lightly against her spine as if testing for pain. Clary's eyes lit up with pleasant surprise when she found that no sting blasted through, shattering her spine; instead her back felt cool, like a little fire brigade had come and put out the flames inside her back. "The iratze's finally kicked in!" she squealed, her voice raising a whole octave higher. "Look! I can move my back." she said to Jace twisting back and forth as if to demonstrate. Encouraged, Clary slipped her hands under her t-shirt running them over her usually smooth skin. What she found horrified her. Her fingertips caught upon ridges of scabs that stung, shooting an arrow of pain down her spine. She found a pattern, her back was striped, almost like the stripes of a tiger, expect tigers wore their stripes with pride, for her it was a mark of shame. She traced the scars with her finger; each one of them flowed from the nape of her neck to the base of her back. Her heart sunk as sadness consumed her and hate burned hot in the pit of her stomach. With an odd burning sensation she felt a tear escape her eye.

As she slowly spiralled into a pit of despair she felt an angel grab her and hold her up. She felt a strong and stable hand upon her shoulder, and gentle fingers stroking away her tears. She tilted her head and looked deep into the amber eyes of Jace. She had never been more thankful for anything in her life. "Ssh don't cry" he said in a soft whisper as he rocked her back and forth. She climbed into his lap, wrapping her arms around his strong neck as she cried into his shoulder.

"We need to get out of here" he said in a voice so serious that for a moment Clary looked up, tears streaming down her face, let go of his neck and looked deep into his eyes. But he seemed unfazed by the sudden movement. "It's not safe for you here. You don't deserve this; an abusive father and a brother than could turn into the devil himself at any moment. If we stay here you're just going to get more hurt." Clary could hear the love in his voice and she realised the importance of his words, but her mind kept fixating on just the one vowel; "we", so he wasn't leaving her, then.

"Jace, I want to go to, but you know we can't. Valentine would catch us before we even got past the first garden. And what about Jocelyn?"

"She could come with us."

"And what? We just run?"

"Well no. Obviously, we need some sort of plan. Plus, I have a home now. A family. They'll take us in. I feel sure of it."

Clary nodded and stayed silent for a while, as if contemplating the matters of the situation. "Okay." she agreed finally.

"I'll think about a plan. But we can't tell anyone. Not yet, anyway. If Valentine finds out all hell will break loose." Clary's eyes were serious and the pair remained silent for a while.

"What do we do now?" Jace said.

To which Clary replied, "We go back to reality. We blend in. We pretend to be loyal to Valentine. And behind closed doors we devise a plan."

_**Thanks for reading and please review!**_


End file.
